


Reluctant Allies

by Cdelphiki



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Explicit Language, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Swears, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Robin, Whumptober 2020, very reluctant brotherly bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: Jason Todd has been Red Hood for a little while, now. And sure, he was kind of an asshole to the bats, which, in all fairness, they totally deserved. But that didn't mean he was going to sit by and watch the Joker kill Robin.And. Okay. Fine. He also didn't want Robin to die in general. Tim Drake was just a kid, after all.  Too bad Tim couldn't believe the Red Hood would want to help him.Whumptober, Day 4: Caged
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946596
Comments: 22
Kudos: 564





	Reluctant Allies

_“Fuck.”_

Jason’s spoon clanked into his bowl, as he dropped it and fumbled for the remote. He’d been watching Jeopardy! with the volume low. Half the fun of the game was answering the questions himself, and really, the idiots on the show were often just distracting. 

But Jeopardy! wasn’t on the screen anymore. 

The Joker was. 

The Joker and the current Robin. 

“ _—play a game, shall we?_ ” Joker said, and Jason just cursed louder as he tossed his cereal on the coffee table and jumped up.

“ _Hrnn,_ ” Robin groaned, when the camera panned to him, “ _Who’d want to play with you?_ ” 

Fucking _brat._

The poor kid looked in rough shape. His mask was slightly ripped, showing off a massive bruise right under one of his eyes. His fat lip and the blood trickling down his chin didn’t help much, either.

Oh, yeah. And the fact he was tied up and inside a tiny little cage. 

How the _hell_ had Joker got his hands on Robin?

Never mind, Jason thought, as he kicked around the shit on his floor, freeing the various pieces of his Red Hood uniform, he knew exactly how Robin got himself captured.

Batman was out of town.

And he’d left Robin in charge of Gotham. 

_Like a fucking moron._

“ _Uh, uh uh,_ ” Joker said, “ _That’s no way to behave. Be a good little birdy._ ” 

Robin groaned, when Joker stuck a stick inside Robin’s cage, and jabbed him in the side. He pressed a button, and Tim’s groan turned to a scream as he was electrocuted. 

Jason grimaced.

“ _Now,_ ” Joker continued, through a laugh, “ _The answer is ‘Topeka._ ’”

Joker’s stupid fucking _laugh._

Jason should _not_ be helping the bats. 

He did not help the bats. The bats _hated_ him. And, sure, they had good reason to, but it just meant Jason shouldn’t be helping them out of principle!

Why help people who hate your guts and wish you were still dead?

 _The bats are out of town,_ his mind helpfully reminded him, _they can’t save Robin_. And like hell was Jason going to let Joker kill another Robin. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, as he grabbed his helmet and shoved it on his head. All he needed was his guns, now. 

“ _Come now, Robin,_ ” Joker said, “Y _ou’re disappointing the viewers at home._ ”

“No, _you’re_ disappointing the viewers,” Jason snapped, as he placed three guns into his holsters, and grabbed his spare magazines, checking to make sure each was full. “No one wants to watch the fucking Joker fuck with a little kid.”

Even if that little kid was Tim Drake. And annoying as fuck.

The camera zoomed back on Robin’s face, and Robin finally mumbled out, _“Capital of Kansas.”_

Robin screamed, again, when Joker jabbed him with the shock stick, and Jason _growled._

He grabbed his tablet and hacked into the batcomputer in record time. He wasn’t sure if Bruce knew he could still do that, but at the moment he was fucking glad he hadn’t been caught yet. 

“ _You didn’t phrase your answer in the form of a question! Haven’t you ever watched Jeopardy!? That’s what the good folks want right now._ ”

“Fuck, kid,” Jason mumbled, as he triangulated a location on Robin’s tracker, “Where are you?” 

Only Robin’s tracker was listed in Gotham, too. _No one_ else was around. Not Alfred. Not Batgirl. _No one._

Why the fuck did Bruce keep leaving Robin all alone?

Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time?

Tim groaned on screen again, making Jason draw his gun and unload the full clip on the screen. 

_Shit._

His neighbors probably hated him. 

“Where _are you,”_ he growled at the tablet, just as Robin’s location finished loading. 

Warehouse in Crime Alley.

Not even five blocks from Jason’s safe house. 

_Good._

_\- - -_

The Joker had almost no henchmen guarding his warehouse. 

Usually Joker’s operations were more thought through. Right? 

This time it was just _pathetic._

How in the ever-loving-fuck had he got his hands on Robin, anyway?

It took Jason not even ten minutes to reach the warehouse, break in, and incapacitate all ten of his thugs. It took only another fifteen seconds to climb up into the rafters, into the main area where Joker was ‘filming’ with Robin. 

“ _Now, Robin,_ ” Joker said, his his annoying high pitched drawl, “ _You are down in the negatives. You need to get this next answer correct or—”_

Jason didn’t let him finish the thought. 

Because he shot the Joker _in the ass._

“Shut the fuck up,” Red Hood snarled, as he dropped down from the rafters, right on top of Joker, “No one cares as much as you think.”

“Hood,” Joker said, grinning wide, despite all the blood leaking out of him. 

Or, well. Not _much._ Jason should shoot him again. 

_Robin would get all high and mighty, if Jason actually killed Joker._

Fucking hell. 

“How nice of you to drop by!” Joker said, laughing, “We could use a second contestant.” 

Yeah. Sure. 

Jason brought his elbow down into Joker’s face. Hard. Breaking his nose and knocking him flat out. 

“How disappointing,” Jason said, as he stood up and turned toward Robin, “That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as shooting him in the face would have been.” 

Robin stayed laying there, where he was, curled up in his cage, clutching his stomach tight. 

Whistling, Jason crossed the room and tried to get Tim’s attention. “Yo. Half-pint, you all right there?” 

Tim didn’t react, other than to curl up tighter when Jason approached the cage and put a hand on one of the bars. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, kid. I’ll get you out.” 

Ridiculously, it took _longer_ to figure out a way to get Tim out of the cage. 

He tried to pry the fucking lock open with a crowbar he found laying around…

Joker and his _fucking_ crowbars. 

But the lock wouldn’t budge, and the stupid replacement Robin kept flinching every time Jason got too near. Which, _should_ have probably made Jason feel _bad._

If he were, like, a good person.

Instead it just pissed him off enough that he grabbed the crowbar and started bashing it against the lock, until the damn thing _fell off._

“Okay,” Jason said as he opened the cage door, “Tell me what the damage is, kid.” 

Robin didn’t respond, so Jason reached in and placed one gloved hand on his shoulder. All he was going to do was shake it, a little. Just to make sure the kid was _alive._ And like, just out of it. 

But apparently Robin was _super_ out of it, because instead of growl at him or snap some dumbass quip, he jumped up and punched Jason right in the stomach. 

“Fuck,” he huffed. The little sucker packed a mean one, but he was too damn out of it for it to do more than make Jason wince. “The fuck, kid? Knock it off.” 

Tim jumped up, however, on top of the cage, then wobbled there as he tried to right his balance. The second Jason tried to reach out to him, to catch him before he toppled over, or some shit, Tim pulled out a couple of his stupid R shaped throwing stars and started throwing them. 

“Shit,” Jason growled, as he dodged, “Kid, knock it _off.”_

“What do you want?” Robin asked, and with that, apparently reached the end of his spike of adrenaline. 

Because the next thing Jason knew, Robin was falling off the cage bars he’d been perched on, and Jason had barely enough time to dive the few feet between them and catch the stupid runt before he landed on the concrete ground, head first. 

“Get off me,” Robin demanded, thrashing about in Jason’s hold. 

All it made Jason do was squeeze his arms around Tim tighter. 

“Stop,” Tim said, his voice getting a little more desperate, “Get _off.”_

 _“Ow,”_ Jason complained, when Tim kicked him in the knee, “Would you _knock it off._ Am I hurting you?” 

Tim stilled, for a second, and seemed to evaluate the situation. Jason was still holding onto him, but he loosed his arms a little. 

“No?” Tim asked, like he wasn’t sure if that were the correct answer, or something. 

Stupid brat. And they accused _Jason_ of shooting first, asking questions later. 

“Then why the _fuck_ are you fighting me?” Jason demanded. 

“You’re…” Tim said, then paused as he put a hand up to his head. _Shit._ Jason needed to get him back to a safe house and checked out. 

Letting go of Tim completely, Jason set him down and maneuvered, so he was kneeling in front of the stupid runt. He put a hand on Tim’s head and forced his head back, a little, so Jason could get a good look at it. He could see one of Tim’s eyes, due to his mask having so much damage on it, and it looked like Tim was at least making eye contact.

Or, at least. As much eye contact as he could when Jason was wearing a helmet. 

“You’re the Red Hood?” Tim finally answered. 

Jason merely huffed. “ _Yeah._ And you’re the boy hostage. Where are you hurt?”

“ _What?_ ” Tim demanded, "Why do you care?" and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Like I’m gonna let Joker kill you. That’s my job.” 

Okay.

Wrong thing to say. 

Because Tim’s eye grew wide, and he shuffled backward, out of Jason’s reach, kicking his feet. 

Jason tried to grab his feet, to make him stop, but Tim kept kicking, and got Jason right in the ribs. 

“Ouch, stop it. I was _kidding.”_ Tim got him on the chin, and Jason snapped, “Just _stop._ I’m trying to _help_ you.”

“Why,” Tim demanded, as Jason finally caught one of his legs and held it up high enough that Tim lost his balance. 

It was kind of amusing, how Tim landed on his back, and just groaned. 

“Why’s there gotta be a reason?” he asked, “Maybe I don’t want to see another Robin die!”

“You beat me near to death like two minutes ago,” Tim shouted, pulling at his foot, and not succeeding in freeing himself. 

Because Jason was standing, and Tim was short. It would be no trouble at all for Jason to just lift Tim right up off the ground entirely by his leg. 

“It’s been four months, stop being dramatic.” 

“You expect me to believe you’ve changed enough since then that it matters?” Tim demanded, just as he pulled another throwing star out and threw it at Jason.

Too bad for Tim, Jason saw it coming a mile away. And just _caught_ it.

“Yep!” he cheered, “You done now? You’re, like, super out if it and your fight _sucks_. If you couldn’t tell.” 

Robin mumbled something Jason didn’t catch, so Jason dropped his foot, and tried not to grin too wide when Tim groaned when his body hit the ground.

He didn’t fall too far. 

And Jason was sure his head and upper back had been on the ground, already, before he let go.

“Can you walk on your own?” he asked.

Once Tim stopped being all dramatic about everything, he grumbled out a, “No,” so Jason knelt down next to him and offered a hand, to help Tim sit up. 

Tim glared at him with so much derision, it risked making Jason laugh. 

Instead, all he said was, “Then stop fucking fighting me and let me help.”

“ _Fine,”_ Tim snapped, lifting an arm up so Jason could wrap it around Jason’s shoulders, “But if you try anything, I’m calling for Superman.” 

“Whatever,” Jason said, as he hefted Tim to his feet, and started making toward the warehouse exit, “Just shut up and let me get you out of here.” 

Tim was in pretty rough shape. 

Jason already knew that, of course, but it became even more obvious as they made their way back to Jason’s safe house.

Mostly because Jason did all the fucking work. 

Tim’s left leg was obviously fucked up. Jason was a little glad he hadn’t held _that_ leg up in the air, because then he’d feel guilty. 

And that wasn’t it. He kept clutching at his stomach, and Jason was willing to bet there was at least some pretty bad burns there from all the zapping. 

Dragging Tim’s ass up the side of Jason’s building was easy, of course. But annoying. Because Jason had to hold onto Tim tight, because the stupid brat’s grip kept loosening whenever Jason jostled him too much. 

“Shit kid,” Jason mumbled, as he pushed Tim through the window to his safe house, “I can’t believe Bruce leaves his fucking kid all alone to protect Gotham when he’s out of town.” 

Because, _seriously._

This was ridiculous. 

Tim was _fucked up._ And it was _all Bruce’s fault._

“M’not his kid,” Tim mumbled, as he stumbled a few feet inside Jason’s safe house, over to the couch. He collapsed down with an _oof._

Jason rolled his eyes and closed the window behind him, after he jumped inside. “You are _too_ a kid,” he said, unsnapping his helmet and tossing it down on the ground, “You’re like, thirteen.” 

Tim followed Jason with his eyes, even as he sank into the couch a little more, and said, “I’m _fifteen._ And I said I’m not _his_ kid.” 

“Fifteen!” Jason shouted, tossing his gloves on the ground. His safe house was pretty small, so his kitchen _was_ his living room. And he, thankfully, had a pretty good first aid kit sitting in the cabinet under his sink. “That’s how old I was. And obviously I meant his _son,_ you idiot.” 

“I’m not his _son_ either,” Tim said. 

Jason paused, as he was pulling his kit out, and looked up over the counter at the little brat. 

“He didn’t adopt you?”

_Hadn’t Talia said….?_

How the fuck was he even Robin? 

“No,” Tim exclaimed, “I _have_ a dad.” 

Is _that_ why Bruce was more lenient on Tim? Because he _wasn’t_ his son? 

Bruce never let Jason out of his fucking sight as Robin. 

He’d thought that was because he didn’t trust Jason, and clearly he trusted Tim. 

But was it maybe because he’d adopted….

 _Nope._ Not thinking about this.

“And _he_ lets you run around with the bats?” Jason asked, finally crossing back over to Tim and slamming the first aid kit down on the coffee table.

Tim jumped, but then scowled at Jason and said, “It’s not like he can stop me.”

 _“Seriously,_ kid?”

“Look. It’s none of your business. Are you gonna let me go?” 

In that state? Not bloody likely. 

But instead of say that, and get Robin all fighty again, Jason said, “I’m not keeping you prisoner, but let me look at your injuries.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but sank back down into the couch and mumbled, “I’m fine.” 

“Uh huh,” Jason said, pointing toward the stomach Tim was still clutching, “lemme see.” 

It took a second of Tim glaring, but he finally relented and lifted his shirt, and Jason could only wince in sympathy.

“Damn, Timbo,” he said, looking at the criss crossing scorch marks littering his abdomen, “Those look fun. I’ve got some burn cream that should help.”

Jason worked on Tim’s injuries in silence for a good ten minutes. He had _so many_ burns, Jason kind of wanted to go back and shoot Joker in the ass again, just for inflicting them. 

And maybe go find Bruce and shoot _him_ in the ass, for leaving Tim all alone for this to happen in the first place. 

“That one needs stitches,” Jason said, after he’d pulled Tim’s sleeves up, inspecting his arms for any more burns to treat. Instead, he found a jagged knife wound, that was still oozing a little. “Did you think you could hide it from me?”

Tim pulled his arm closer to himself, and mumbled, “S’not that bad.” 

Jason rolled his eyes, and pulled out his suture kit. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

Amazingly, Tim didn’t fight him at all, when he took his arm back and started cleaning the wound enough so he could apply the local anesthetic and start stitching it up.

Instead, all Tim did was stare at him, a little blankly. 

It was actually unnerving.

“What?” he snapped. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you,” Jason scoffed, readjusting his hold on Tim’s arm so he could get the last few stitches in straight, “I’m not letting Joker kill another Robin.” 

And, sure. Stitching the kid up and treating all his burns was going a little _above and beyond._

But Jason would feel a little bad if he, like, bled to death or whatever. 

“Yeah,” Tim said, blinking hard as he ran his free hand through his hair, “But like, you coulda just took him out and left. Why’re you— _ow.”_

“Whoops,” Jason said, bearing his teeth a little as he grinned at the _accidental_ needle prick he gave Tim outside the numbed area, “Are you seriously complaining? Don’t you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Tim was rich, wasn’t he? Weren’t they taught that shit, too?

Jason was pretty sure Bruce never let him be ungrateful about gifts. Not that Jason _would,_ of course. But even Bruce Wayne taught his kids to be thankful for what they had…

Then again. Tim apparently _wasn’t_ Bruce’s kid… 

“When that gift horse tries to kill us every other week, no,” Tim said.

“Shut up,” Jason scoffed, “I haven’t messed with you idiots in months.” 

Which was, absolutely, completely, 89% true. 

He hadn’t attempted anything _fatal_ on them in months. Fucked with their cases for the laughs? Maybe. 

Mostly just Bruce’s. When it didn’t get anyone hurt, of course. 

Just because it was fun to fuck with Bruce.

Because _fuck_ Bruce. 

“Yeah, but— _ow.”_

Jason might have stabbed him again. 

“All done,” he said, before Tim could get out whatever it was he was going to protest, “Congratulations, you’ll survive. You can sleep here. I’m burning the safe house tomorrow, though.”

He’d shot the TV. So it was pretty useless now, anyway. 

“Next time you get captured by the Joker, I’m shooting _you_ in the ass, got it?” 

“Yeah,” Tim said, rolling his eyes as he settled back on the couch a little more comfortably, “Whatever.” 

Jason watched as Tim pulled his legs up and clearly just… collapsed there. To sleep. And rolled his eyes even harder. 

Like _that_ would be comfortable. 

On his way to the window, after he’d put his helmet back on, Jason grabbed the blanket and pillow from under the coffee table and threw it right at Tim’s head. 

Tim scowled, but did readjust himself so he looked at least _slightly_ more comfortable. 

Satisfied, Jason nodded and said, “Kay. Tell Bats I said fuck him. Later, squirt.”

“Thanks, Jason,” Tim mumbled, just as Jason was slipping out of the window. 

Heh. The runt wasn’t so bad, after all. 

Maybe.

But Jason was _not_ going to make a habit of this. No way. 

If he did, he’d have to go shoot _Batman_ in the ass, for letting his stupid little Robin get hurt. 

That would be fun, actually.

**Author's Note:**

> MEH. Summaries, I swear. LOL Anywayyyyy, y'all voted and I wrote. 😆
> 
> I'm hoping to get another chapter of the best things out tomorrow, then I'm on vacation for a couple weeks. We'll see how much writing I get done while away. It could be a ton, and it could be none. We'll see. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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